


Boldly

by PhantomBrushy



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Character Study, Complications with time travel, F/M, Gen, Repeating the past, Sad, Time Travel, grab some tissues boys it's gonna be a rough ride, this is some of the SADDEST stuff i've ever written
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:41:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23303314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomBrushy/pseuds/PhantomBrushy
Summary: “If you had a chance to do things again, if you were given the opportunity to make things different, would you take it?”
Relationships: Carol Marcus/Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Leonard “Bones” McCoy & James T. Kirk, Leonard “Bones” McCoy & Spock
Comments: 15
Kudos: 18





	1. Cover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought I'd draw a little cover for this fic!


	2. Let's Do The Time Warp!

_ Full custody. No visitation rights; no contact. _

When had it come to this?

Years ago - no, months ago - he wouldn't have been able to dream of this. Had you even suggested such a thing to him, Leonard would've laughed in your face as he pulled you into Sickbay for a psych eval. Yet, here he was.

Even though they had divorced all that time ago, after he had caught her in bed with another man, they had agreed that Joanna didn't need to be caught in the middle. The divorce was Jocelyn's suggestion, after his decision for marriage counselling didn't work. His little girl was so young when it had all happened, and the only thing they could see eye-to-eye on was that their daughter didn't need to be exposed to their inability to coexist in the same space anymore. It was the better decision, after all, for everyone involved.

But there was a PADD in his hand telling him otherwise, an apologetic letter from his lawyer glaring up at him. Jocelyn was as conniving as she was intelligent and beautiful. That's to say: very much so. The damn woman had waited until he was well and truly far away to take this to court and to bring every little unfavourable thing about him to light. His absence before the judge had not put him in his good graces, despite the fact it was made clear that he would've been there in person if he could've been.

Samuel, his poor lawyer who always seemed scared of handling his case, had tried to use Leonard's reputation as CMO of the  _ Enterprise _ to his advantage. But Leonard was no James Kirk. Nor was he Spock. Chief Medical Officer meant little outside of Starfleet and the medical communities.

He'd fight this. He would. But his hands were tied at the moment, at least, until the mission was over. If he broke his contract so soon, he'd lose his main source of income and because of that, he'd certainly lose to his ex-wife in court. She was a powerful woman from a rich, influential family. He'd need everything to fight her.

And Joanna. Oh. She was starting her first year at Cerberus next month. The  _ Enterprise _ had been scheduled to be in range, and he had planned on seeing her off. But now…

In a fit of anger, Leonard threw the PADD across his room with a shout of pure rage. It thankfully held its own against the wall, simply falling to the ground with a dissatisfying thump before turning off.

“Damn her…”

_ If you don't deliver on what has been agreed, doctor, I can guarantee you I will seek other, less pleasant avenues. _

“...and damn Section 31.”

It was times like these that had him wanting to revive Khan, only to strangle him to death with his own two hands. It's nearly been four years since the augment had wreaked havoc on everyone's lives. No one had been the same after. And Jim…

_ I had wished to avoid taking this route, but if you continue to disobey me, I will be forced to turn to your captain to find that which I seek. _

“Fuckin’ admirals, fuckin’ Komack, fuckin’ Section 31.” Leonard fell back against his pillow, pulling his quilt - the one his mother had made for him when he graduated from medical school - up over his shoulders.

Unsurprisingly, Section 31 had survived its discovery and Admiral Marcus’ death. Back when all of this happened, when Jim was still recovering from his trek in the warp core, he never heard of the organisation again. Like a naïve child, he had assumed that the powers that be in Starfleet had taken care of the problem.

That couldn't be further from the truth, and his assumption was shattered to a million pieces when Admiral Komack called him in for a meeting on Yorktown, demands and threats on his lips when his prepared speech failed to seduce Leonard.

Now he was caught between a rock and a hard place, having no choice but to rework the old data he had destroyed when working with Khan's blood, and delivering that information to Section 31 so that they could make a new generation of super soldiers.

Paranoia had set in months ago, once he realised someone on his staff was keeping tabs on him and reporting back to the shadow organisation. Before, he had believed he could trust his staff to have his back, but now he wasn't sure who was in Komack’s pocket and who wasn't. 

Now he had no choice but to do what they wanted. And every page he sent, every line of numbers and every word he wrote had him feeling filthy and sick.

When had this become his life?

Recently, everywhere he turned he felt like there was something waiting for him around every corner. And no matter what he did, in his attempts to make things better, he inevitably made it worse.

When Komack threatened him for his research, Leonard had pushed Jim away to keep him safe. They were still friends, yes, but they were no longer the brothers they had once been. Jim had noticed, he was a smart kid, but he had said nothing. He never asked why, and he never pushed. But Leonard still saw the hurt in his eyes.

He had agreed to the divorce for the sake of Joanna. If they had stayed, there was no doubt that their relationship would have festered into something toxic. Into something that they wouldn't have been able to keep away from their baby girl. He'd done everything Jocelyn had asked, hoping to keep her happy. Anything to stay in Joanna's life. 

Well, it was evident that hadn't been enough.

But had he not pushed Jim away, Komack would have pushed harder, sooner.

Had he not divorced Jocelyn, or had he fought harder during the split, perhaps Joanna wouldn't be the smart, happy girl she currently was.

“Damned if you do, damned if you don't.”

Story of his life.

Leonard grabbed the bracelet on his nightstand to inspect it. Without fail, it always brightened his mood. And he's had to do this more frequently in recent times.

It wasn't the prettiest thing to the common observer, merely a mess of different sized and obnoxiously coloured glass beads, but it couldn't be more perfect to him.

_ A bead for love.  _

Over the last few years he had gained a few pounds, something he really couldn't help considering he was getting older. Now the bracelet didn't fit as well as it once had, digging into his skin to the point of being slightly uncomfortable. Everyday he had to remove it before shift so it wouldn't get in the way, but it was always somewhere on his person.

_ A bead for family. _

Just a week ago he had sprouted a few grey hairs along his temples, something Joanna had noted during their video call. She'd given him such a hard time about it.

_ A bead for protection _ .

Maybe, after this mission was all said and done, he'd retire, or take a position at a university not affiliated with Starfleet. He  _ was _ getting too old for his job. Being on his feet did no favours for his back and hips, and the stress of everything was starting to get to him.

A sigh.

“Computer, lights to 0%.” It was rare for him to be in his quarters in complete darkness. Even after all of these years on a pressurised tin can in space, knowing that the only things standing between him and certain death was a functioning system and sheets of metal still scared the crap out of him. But sometimes, in those rare moments, he could appreciate the starlight for what it was.

Distant. Untouchable. Cold.

Celestial. Beautiful. Soothing.

The perfect light to sleep by.

Tucking the hand cradling one of his most precious possessions under his pillow, Leonard allowed himself to drift off into the land of dreams.

He was exhausted. Things could wait for a few hours.

* * *

Jim didn't bother suppressing the yawn that cracked his jaw, sinking lower into his chair. Sure, his posture wasn't necessarily up to par with Starfleet regulation, but it was nearing the end of shift and it had been one of  _ those  _ days. One of those days filled with nothing but charting sectors and staring at the screens for any change. Yes, times like these were few and far in between, but it didn't mean that they still didn't  _ suck _ .

“Ensign, report.”

“Nothing much to say, keptain,” Even Chekov, normally the most energetic of them all, was lacking his usual pep. Instead, he had his curly head propped in one hand while the other drummed against the console. It was the only sound on the bridge besides the periodic beeps of the machines and Uhura’s quiet humming.

And judging by the side-eye Sulu was giving the Russian, that might just stop soon.

“Vait,” There was an audible sigh of relief from their helmsman when both the drumming and humming stopped abruptly, but Jim wasn't feeling the same, “Ze sensors just picked up some anomalous readings, sir.”

“As have mine,” Spock piped up from behind him, brows furrowed as his dark eyes darted across the screen before him, “The data I am receiving keeps fluctuating, without form or pattern. Whatever this is must be naturally occurring.”

“Talk to me, Spock.  _ What  _ data?”

There was a heavy pause before he spoke again, a detail that had everyone turning to him. Spock didn't use silence lightly.

“Temporal data. It appears we have come across a 'time cloud’.”

The mere thought of a time cloud had Jim's heart racing in his chest. While these weren't much to look at, as evident by the empty, rippling space in front of the ship, they were notoriously dangerous. The first one had been discovered and confirmed in Federation space only a couple of months ago - when the captain of the  _ U.S.S. Exeter _ had disappeared for two days and then reappeared claiming he had travelled in time - and they've increased in both frequency and quantity since then. So far, there had been thirty-seven documented cases of time travel, and it was making everything near impossible to handle.

In fact, this had attracted the attention of temporal agents from centuries in the future, who had felt the ripples even in their time.

And they were struggling to find a solution.

From what Starfleet could understand of the situation, these leaps in time had not only made a mess of this timeline, but it had created multiple alternate timelines at an unprecedented rate. Because of this, reality as they knew it was collapsing in on itself, becoming unstable and tearing holes in the very fabric of spacetime. In the end, it became one vicious cycle, and Starfleet's best minds, from the present and the future, were struggling to get in front of the problem.

“Starting stream now, sir,” Uhura said.

Because of a time cloud’s temperamental nature, the best thing a crew could do was attempt to avoid the phenomenon altogether and to livestream their temporal data. That way if anyone disappeared suddenly - that they noticed, anyway - HQ would know why.

“Is it stationary?”

“Negative, captain.”

As of yet, one of the things there was no way for someone to know before passing through an anomaly is just how far they'll be jumping in time. The longest jump recorded had been a week into the future. Negligible in the grand scheme of things, particularly in comparison to the thought of time travel in the other direction.

There had only been two recorded instances of travel to the past. Each jump had been about a year, give or take several weeks.

Maybe there were more. Although none have been confirmed thus far, after these tears were discovered, Starfleet had to look back to the few Starfleet officers that had suddenly been overcome with 'delusions’ of being from the future and, consequently, thrown into a psychiatric hospital. No one had believed them at the time.

But who really knew how many more there were? What if someone had died after being transported to the past? What if they took a different path than they had before? They wouldn't know, because the future would change around that.

At the end of the day, this whole situation gave Jim a headache and had given him the belief that maybe no-win scenarios  _ did _ exist.

“Mr. Sulu, steer us around the anomaly and keep us away from it. We can't get caught in a time jump,” When no answer was forthcoming, Jim had to bite down on his rising panic, “Mr. Sulu-.”

“Apologies, captain, but I'm trying. It's almost like it's pulling us in.”

_ Shit. _

“Whatever you do, don't let us pass through! Mr. Scott, I'm gonna need all the power you can spare to the thrusters for a bit.”

Scotty's response was prompt, “I dinnae wanna know for what, cap’n. But wha’ever ye need, you've go’ it. Diverting all non-essential power to thrusters.”

“It's not working, captain! We're going through that cloud whether we like it or not.”

There was only the briefest of pauses before Jim started barking orders, unable to hide the panic in his voice, “God  _ dammit _ , lieutenant Uhura put the ship on temporal alert!” The new protocol had been installed merely a month ago, and he had hoped to never use it. But here they were, bathed in a vibrant blue light and sitting on the edge of their seats with bated breath. Jim could imagine what Bones would be saying if he were here as Spock counted the metres until contact. He'd probably be cursing up a storm, ranting in hyperbole about what was going to happen. They'd be torn to pieces or thrown back into the dark ages, completely out of their depth and-.

They merely passed through with a shudder, and eventually, Jim's white-knuckled grip on his chair eased.

“Report.” He managed through gritted teeth.

“We are fortunate, captain,” Spock said, and even he looked the slightest bit frazzled from the recent turn of events, “We have gone 3.2 minutes into the past. According to the computer, everyone is accounted for.”

Everyone released a heavy breath, and even Uhura slumped into her seat with a look of relief. They were fine.

“I’ll notify Starfleet, captain.” She didn't even bother to sit up, instead using her stylus to press the necessary buttons.

“I think…” He started, shakily getting to his feet, not that he'd show it, “I think we can end shift now. Call up Beta crew. They can have the boring shift.”

A smattering of chuckles, and even Spock couldn't fight the twitch of his lips.

“Aye, sir.”

What Jim would give for Bones to have been here.


	3. Hello Again, San Fran

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a penchant for forgetting what day of the week it is. 
> 
> This was supposed to go up yesterday! Sorry, folks!

Leonard didn't know how long he had been asleep for, but it sure as hell wasn't for as long as he would've liked. He was too tired to decipher the loud noise in his ear and he simply tried burying his head under his pillow. Maybe if he ignored it, it would stop.

After a few shrill rings, his quarters were blissfully silent again. With a content sigh, he allowed himself to start drifting off back into the land of dreams.

And then it was ringing. Again.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me,” Blindly, he reached for the comm unit on his nightstand, which felt farther away than he was used to it being but he was probably just too tired to notice, “This better be fuckin’ important- McCoy here.”

“Report to the hangar bay.”

There was the click signalling he’d been hung up on, but Leonard would know that voice anywhere. His annoyance ramped up a few notches as he struggled to push himself upright, punching away at his phone’s screen. Jim didn’t pick up right away, and he was stuck listening to the service trying to put him through.

That was when he felt more than saw the other presence in his bed. Which was a little strange because he doesn’t remember bringing anyone to his quarter’s last night…

And he was pretty sure this wasn’t the standard-issue, single-size bed he normally slept on.

The longer he waited for Jim to pick up, the more time he had to wake up and realise exactly where he was. The clock on the far wall definitely wasn’t the bland, sterile one in his room on the ship, and the table beside him was larger than the one he was used to.

But he wasn’t in his quarters, was he?

God, maybe he got drunk last night and ended up falling into bed with one of his nurses. That… would be embarrassing to explain.

“What, Bones?”

“Don’t ‘Bones’ me after hangin’ up like you did!” He growled into the phone, confusion temporarily forgotten in the face of his anger, “And what d’you mean ‘report to the hangar bay’, Jim? I’m off shift. The hell would you need me to do on one of the Galileo’s?"

“What the hell are you even talking about? Wake up and report to the hangar, now.”

A small hand suddenly flopped out from under the duvet, resting on top of the hand keeping him propped up. The sudden skin-to-skin contact was jarring, but the temporary heart attack was nothing compared to what he felt when he finally noticed just  _ who _ was in the bed with him.

He could only stare down at the little girl, who was sprawled out and dead to the world. His baby girl, younger than he remembered her being. As Jim continued to insist on him going back on duty, if only temporarily, he kept staring in shock. With a shaking hand, he gently brushed some loose brown strands of hair out of her face, afraid she would disappear as soon as he touched her.

Joanna’s nose crinkled before she turned her body towards him, cuddling against his hip before settling down again. She clutched her stuffed rabbit tighter, a gift from his mother for her fourth birthday.

Things were starting to click into place. Not everything, but some.

Like the fact this was his apartment back in San Francisco. The one he hadn’t owned in years.

Was he dreaming?

“Are you even listening, Bones?”

Or had he dreamed up the next few years?

“U-uh, yeah, I am. But, why do you want me to report in? Jim, you sound like you’ve been cryin’. Are you okay?”

Tense silence, only broken by Joanna’s steady breathing. His gut felt like it was on the floor, a terrible suspicion nagging at the back of his brain. It couldn’t be...

“Turn on the news.”

As quietly as he could, Leonard slipped out from under the covers and stepped into his living room. The morning sun was just peaking over the neighbouring buildings, streaming through the large floor-to-ceiling windows and casting everything in an obnoxiously orange glow.

“What am I goin’ to see?”

“Just do it.”

Leonard felt like he knew what he was going to see.

With fingers that haven’t seemed to stop trembling since he woke up this morning, he struggled to turn on the TV. And when he did…

_ “-king news: Late last night there was an attack on Starfleet headquarters by a man named John Harrison. Eight are confirmed dead with five more injured-.” _

This... was no dream.

The remote slipped from his fingers.

“Oh my god…” He breathed, “Jim… You were there weren't you? And Pike… he’s-?”

“Yeah, look, Bones, I need you on the  _ Enterprise _ in a few hours. I got the go ahead from Admiral Marcus to apprehend Harrison, and I need a Chief Medical Officer.”

The ship must have passed through one of those terrible time clouds when he had been asleep, or something like that, and now he was  _ years _ into the past, doomed to repeat those ill fated events…

He knew what was going to happen next; what all of this would lead to. No, he couldn't do any of this again. Not again!

“Bones, are you there?”

Should he tell him about what he knew? To prevent what would happen next?

He couldn't. He  _ shouldn’t _ . The protocol for this kind of time travel had been drilled into his head when those temporal agents had shown up: Don’t interfere with a single thing.

“Daddy… is that Uncle Jim?”

“What’re you doin’ up, honey?” Leonard scrambled to turn off the screen. She didn’t need to see this. Last time, he’d been too caught up in his shock to protect her from this as she had crawled into his arms, eyes glued to the news report, “You should go back to bed. It’s early.”

“Shit. Bones, I forgot you had her. Never mind, forget I asked-.”

Fuck the protocol. This was a second chance. A chance to make things different.

And damn him if he didn't take it.

“No, Jim. I don't trust anyone else to be your Chief Medical Officer while you're on the  _ Enterprise _ . I'll be there.”

Leonard hung up before Jim could say anything else, tossing it beside him on the couch and giving Joanna a tight, warm hug. He could tell she didn’t really understand what was happening, just that her father just decided to up and leave her behind and he wouldn’t allow himself to feel guilty for that.

If he did, he’d stay. And no one could afford that right now. Not even himself.

“I don't want you to go.” She sniffled into his shirt, looking impossibly smaller in those blue pajamas she’d eventually outgrow, “I want you to be safe.”

“I'm sorry, baby,” He muttered into her hair, carding his fingers through her knotted locks. He was going to have to brush this out before he left, “But I should be back soon. You and your mother can stay here until then, how does that sound?”

She didn't respond, eyes green like Jocelyn’s staring into nothing as she worried her lip. That was a nervous tick she’d picked up from him, unfortunately.

“Joanna?”

“'Kay, daddy,” She finally acquiesced, before turning a stubborn frown to him, “But you have to promise to be safe. Pinky swear!”

Leonard chuckled, blinking back the tears that had formed when she pulled back, a determined glint in her eye and her tiny, pinky finger held aloft, “Alright, pinky swear.”

* * *

"Thanks for doing this, Joce.”

His ex-wife gave him a bland smile before stepping past him and into the apartment. Just as he had remembered. While they were on tense terms, civility wasn't something they were willing to give up at this point. Even when he spied the new rock on her finger, a much nicer and larger stone than the one he had been able to afford when they had been together.

He chose to ignore the expensive heels on her feet or her designer clothing. She was obviously doing well for herself.

“I know this is all last second, but-.”

“It’s fine,” She said, unwilling to tear her eyes from their investigation of his modest apartment. The light of the sunrise had faded away in favour of something paler and not as grating on the eyes. The skies were without clouds, and today would’ve been a great day for him to go to the park with Jo.

Leonard couldn't help but feel like both he and his living space were being scrutinised by his ex, who kept running her perfectly manicured fingers over his kitchen tiles. Luckily, he had managed to give them a clean after he had made Joanna a small, quick breakfast earlier, “How long will you be gone?”

Jocelyn rubbed her fingers together, inspecting the imaginary grime that she had picked up from the counter before making her way to the couch, gracefully crossing her legs after she sank into the cushions. Her eyes bore into his own.

“Not long,” He managed after a thick swallow. With Joanna back in his bedroom singing some song from the movie they had watched the night before, he needed to be mindful of what he said. Things could easily dissolve into an argument if he wasn't careful, “It shouldn't be longer than the day. You can spend the night here, if it comes down to it. Here's my key.”

A quiet, dismissive hum nearly had him pulling back when she accepted it from him, “I'm takin’ Jo to Lafayette park for a few hours later. Then I'll treat her to somethin’ nice, since her father can't be bothered to put her above anythin’ else.”

Both guilt and anger tore through him, but before he could say anything in his defense, Joanna meandered out of his room with her rabbit in hand. Well-loved as it was, it was more of a scraggly looking rat with long ears, and Jocelyn scrunched her nose at the sight before schooling her face into an indifferent mask.

“What's that you got there, Jo?”

'That’ being the collection of mismatched beads on a string she was less than successful in hiding behind her back. After having it for so long, it didn't take much for him to recognise it for what it was. And now that he was at the age where it would fit comfortably around his wrist, he was eager to receive what had been his safety blanket in the last few months.

“Close your eyes! And no peeking!” Despite how exhausted she appeared to be, she still managed to show enough enthusiasm to deliver her surprise.

With a watery smile on his lips, Leonard knelt before her and complied, hand held out and waiting to receive the gift he knew she had worked so hard on. While he couldn’t see her place this piece of jewellery that would be so treasured on his palm, he felt every bump and groove of every bead. It was warm from her body heat, and having its weight again in his hands brought him more comfort than she could ever know.

Instinctively, his fingers curled around the bracelet.

“You can open now!”

The smile on his lips threatened to split his face as he finally set his eyes on the combination of colourful beads in his hands. It took a couple of tries, but he finally managed to thank her without revealing how choked up he was about her gift.

“It’s beautiful, sweetpea. I promise to wear it every day.”

“You better!” She said, mock stern, before sobering up, “We made stuff for our parents in art class. I made this so that I'm always with you, daddy, even when you're in the stars.”

She… hadn’t said that last time.

Biting back another wave of tears, he picked her up and held her close, “Oh, baby. You’ll always be with me, bracelet or not. I hope you know that.”

She only yawned and buried her face into his neck, blindly reaching for Jocelyn, “I’m tired.”

Leonard chuckled quietly as his ex-wife made her way over, an unreadable look in her eyes as she took hold of their daughter’s hand. A bracelet similar to his own glinted on her slender wrist, catching the sun just right, “I told you to go back to bed ‘til your ma came home.”

“Wanted to wait for her.”

Together, they brought Joanna back to his room. And together, they tucked her under the covers and made sure Mr. Rabbit was tucked into the crook of her arm.

It almost felt like they were a family again.

Cautiously, Jocelyn slipped out of her expensive blazer and shoes, finally taking a second to relax and claimed a spot next to Joanna. Leonard went to leave, but Joanna’s hand shot out to take a hold of his own.

“Sing me to sleep? The one from the movie?”

In another time, Leonard had denied her, instead choosing to rush towards the  _ Enterprise _ than to spend a few more minutes with her.

But that was another life, and things were going to be different now.

“Of course.”

“Don’t you have somewhere you need to be?” Jocelyn’s brow was raised, but her words lacked their usual bite. Daresay it, Leonard thought there was something akin to fondness that softened her normally icy gaze. Was this where he’d gone wrong before? 

“They can wait.”

With a gentle nudge, Joanna shimmied over enough to give him space, tired eyes eagerly watching him as he sidled up next to her. The stiff uniform he wore didn’t allow for much movement, but his comfort didn’t matter now.

The lyrics came naturally to him as Joanna had been obsessed with the movie he introduced to her last night for years. The obsession called for memorising all of the songs so they could belt them together.

She giggled when he leisurely stroked his pinky down the bridge of her nose, again and again, just like the woman in the movie had done. It looked silly to him, but he could see the soothing effect it had on Jo as her eyelids began to droop. A content and lazy smile stretched her lips, and Jocelyn absentmindedly continued to stroke Joanna’s hair, her eyes set on him. 

Was she thinking what he was thinking? 

Could she remember the nights when they’d do this together?

When they’d been happy?

Joanna was deeply asleep when he sang the last note and with a kiss on her forehead from each of them, they both quietly slipped out of the room, leaving her to wander the world of dreams in peace.

The silence between them was awkward when Leonard picked up his bag by the door, fixing the cap on his head in the mirror. He was afraid of what lay ahead: of what he knew and what would soon become the unknown. It was making leaving that much harder.

“Thank you,” Jocelyn’s quiet words brought him out of his thoughts. She looked softer than she had when she first entered his apartment, silhouetted against the sun without her tall heels and blazer made of sharp edges. She was wringing her hands, her eyes on the floor, “For stayin’ a little longer. I think Jo needed it.”

“I think we all needed it.”

A nod.

“And… I’m sorry for how I acted earlier. Can’t fault you for only doin’ your job. Lord knows I’ve let her down in favour of my work at the office on more than one occasion.” Jocelyn stepped closer, hesitantly wrapping her arms around his waist in a stiff hug. One of the many things he had loved about her was how perfectly she fit into his embrace, like two puzzle pieces slotting together.

“Don’t apologise for wantin’ better for our girl. It’s one of the things that makes you a great mother to her.”

She chuckled wetly against his shoulder, and Leonard wondered what would happen to her that would make her so bitter in the future he was determined to make obsolete. When her temper flared higher and faster in ways he’d never seen before, had it been his fault? Had he not tried hard enough then?

“I should apologise for somethin’, too,” Jocelyn pulled away with a curious sound, tears clinging to her lashes but not quite falling, “I’m sorry, for how things got between us. I should’ve treated you better. Should’ve loved you more.”

“Leo-.”

“No, Joce. While I’ll admit that I used to be really angry at you for what you did, I don’t blame you. Not anymore,” Before she could, Leonard cupped her face and brushed away the silent tears that fell with the pads of his thumbs, “And I’m sorry that I haven’t really been here for either of you since we divorced. And I promise I’ll try harder. From now on, you two come before everythin’.”

She sniffed hard, stepping out of his reach and nodding while she wiped at her face furiously, “Okay,” A deep calming breath and a shaky smile, “Okay. I’ll try, too.”

They each took a second to compose themselves before Leonard finally made his way out of the door, Jocelyn on his heels. He was cutting it close, but as he had promised, his priorities were different now.

“How about - when I get back - we go out for dinner. Just the three of us? There’s this new place around the corner, and I think you two will love it.”

“That sounds great, Leo. I’ll hold you to it.”

“Scout’s honour.”

Reluctantly, he crossed the threshold and into the hallway. Each step felt like he was weighed down with lead, walking closer and closer to a place he didn’t want to go. But he had to make sure the future was safe for them, so that they could start over.

He only made it a few feet down the hall before he turned around, calling out to the woman he still loved before she could close the door, “Joce?”

“Yeah?” 

Her eyes were puffy and her nose was red, her make-up miraculously unmarred by the tears that had plagued her seconds ago. He took a second to look at her. To really take her in and remind himself why he was doing this; to remind himself that there was a better future he would be coming back to.

“Is Clay good to you?”

She softened further, “Yeah. Yeah, he is."

“Good.”

Encouraged, he turned back around and left with his head held high.

He had a mission to complete, and he would see it through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the lullaby in question is 'All is Found' from Frozen II because I like it lol. I don't know any other song that really captures the essence of this scene quite like it so you can say I had no choice!


	4. I Once Loved A Woman Named Carol

Things were the same from there on. He’s simultaneously terrified and comforted to know what’ll happen next, even if he has to act like everything is just fine and dandy.

It took everything he had to bite his tongue so he didn’t reveal what he knew, because he couldn’t talk to Jim like he knew what he just went through. And he certainly couldn’t talk to Carol like he knew her; call her out on her bluff like they’d shared many drinks together as friends before tumbling together a few drunken nights.

It took everything he had to not defend and support poor Scotty against Jim’s ridiculous behaviour when he accidentally spied the battle of wills, especially knowing what those thrice-damned torpedoes held inside. He had to keep reminding himself that Scotty leaving the ship was necessary to get a foothold over Marcus, even if he didn’t know why the engineer had left in the first place.

Things were the same from there on. Until he decided they wouldn’t be.

What he did is firmly grab Carol by the forearm as soon as he saw her alone and dragged her with him to Sickbay, ignoring her protests and the strange looks he got from the crew. He’s a man on a mission and nothing was going to stop him.

“What is your problem, doctor?” She all but shrieked at him as soon as he got her in his office, sending a few well-aimed slaps his way. He managed to avoid most of them and ultimately stopped her by grabbing her wrists, careful not to be too forceful, “Let go!”

“Stop! Stop, stop!” The sense of urgency coursing through him made him feel like a live wire. The same mantra was going through his head, over and over: too much is at stake; not a moment to waste. It banged against his head like a hammer, “I know who you are, Carol Marcus, and I need you to do somethin’ for me.”

The moment she stopped struggling was the moment her jaw visibly dropped, her heterochromic eyes wide in disbelief. There had been a time he could get lost in them, one green like the lake by his childhood home and the other blue like the ice of a glacier, but now wasn’t that time.

“How do you know?” She hissed at him, once she regained some semblance of control over her emotions. And she seemed pissed, “I told no one I would be coming here. So tell me.”

“Fuck, that doesn’t matter-.”

“Of course it matters! I went to great lengths to make sure no one knew I’d be boarding the  _ Enterprise _ , so I demand you tell me how you know,” A panic seemed to come over her and she began to pace, bony fingers tangling into her once-sleek bob, “Oh, God. Does my father know I’m here?”

“N-no! No, I don’t know him and I sure as hell don’t like him,” Carol gesticulated awkwardly as if to say ‘fair’ before collapsing into one of the few chairs in the office, pointy elbows propped on her knees. If only she really understood why he hated the man’s guts. But, at this point, she didn’t know about Section 31. At this point, she still had hope for her father’s redemption, “No one else knows you’re here.”

“You still haven’t answered my question, doctor.  _ How _ ?”

That’s right. She was a persistent woman. Something he’d forgotten, since it’d been so long since he’d last seen her. There were the echoes of a memory in the recesses of his mind. Of super late nights in a diner with laughter and easy conversation over delicious coffee.

He stubbornly tried to clear the last whispers from his mind. Perhaps, he had feelings for her once.

Maybe they could have a second chance, this time around. But the mantra was still repeating itself in his head, loud and insistent. It nearly drowned everything else out.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. So just call it intuition, yeah?” She crossed her arms and huffed, jaw set tight in agitation, “Look, I’m sure you can agree with me when I say things have gone to hell in a handbasket, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then trust me when I say it’s only goin’ to get worse from here. And I think I know what to do to keep things from gettin’ too bad but I need your help to do it,” He could see the questions running through her head, burning hot with answers she desperately desired but she must’ve seen something in his face; in the way panic made his shoulders hunched and stiff, “It’s those…  _ damn _ torpedoes.”

“I knew it,” She hissed to herself, eyes suddenly far away as the questions about his knowledge faded away in favour of the possibilities. She had come to this ship because of those weapons, after all, “There is no need to outfit the  _ Enterprise _ with  _ seventy-two _ long-rage photon torpedoes. Three or five I could understand but the knowledge alone that we’re carrying such a payload to the edge of Klingon space would be enough to start a war! So  _ why _ ?” She began to mumble to herself, chewing the edge of her nail and he knew for a fact that if he didn’t tell her to stop she’d chew right down to the quick. 

Oh, he should’ve had a plan before doing this.

He hadn’t thought when he saw her briskly marching down the hall, a determined set to her jaw. He hadn’t thought about what he’d say and how he’d get her to listen, or how he’d communicate his panic and urgency without coming off like some crazed lunatic.

Being thrown in the brig or confined to isolation for a supposed ‘mental breakdown’ was the last thing he needed right now.

No, all he’d seen was a woman who could help him in his mission to make the future a better one than he’d known, no matter how slight the improvement. And in his desperation, he’d acted before thinking.

Leonard couldn’t tell her about her father, and he couldn’t tell her exactly what was in the torpedoes without explaining how he knew and there was no feasible reason why he should know.

But, there was one thing he could try to do.

“You need to tell Jim to open the torpedoes.”

“Why?” She paused in her chewing, thumb still caught between her lips. As if she was unwilling to give up her habit, no matter how briefly, “Why, what’s in them? What do you know?”

“Nothin’ for certain. But I overheard Scotty - that is, our… ex-Chief Engineer - say somethin’ about the scanners being blocked? And… and the people from the CMUs. They wouldn’t let Scotty have access to the specs! Somethin’ ain’t right and it ain’t safe to have ‘em on this ship,” Leonard felt his accent thicken in his throat like honey. It’d gotten tamer over the years, and it felt foreign now, especially in the haze of his headache, “Jim don’t see it now ‘cause he’s bein’ more of a dumbass than he normally is, but if you tell him-.”

“And you can’t?” Carol was back on her feet, something wild in her eyes, “I’m not saying what you’ve said doesn’t make sense. It certainly adds up but why the bloody hell would your captain listen to me? Why not you?”

“Because he just won’t!” A stab of hurt that he wouldn’t let himself feel too deeply flashed through him as he recalled how easily Jim brushed him off on the shuttle, and then turned around and did the same to Spock. As if their friendships no longer mattered. But he had to remind himself, just like he had to then, that this wasn’t like the future he’d come from. Their relationship would not yet be the same as it could be, “I may be his friend but I’m the first person he stops listenin’ to when he gets somethin’ stuck in that big head of his. Carol-  _ Doctor Marcus _ ... You’re a beautiful woman with an intelligence that can rival Spock’s. That goes a long way with Jim.”

There was a little relief in knowing she was going to listen to him. He could tell with the way she seemed to deflate in both acceptance and defeat at his words, likely recalling the flirtatious banter the two had exchanged on the shuttle. Both he and Spock had been ignored with their concerns, but he was thankful that Carol had been allowed on the ship despite the first officer’s bout of jealousy.

“Okay. Okay, okay, okay,” She took a deep, calming breath, brushing her golden locks from her face as if she could clear her mind with a simple gesture. If only, “Alright, I’ll tell him. I can’t say if he’ll really listen to me, but I’ll try.”

A sigh.

“Thank you. With things as they are right now, that’s all that I can ask.”

Carol straightened where she stood by the door, looking taller than he even though Leonard knew he had several inches on her. Her presence had always been able to fill a room, made large by her confident personality. With a sharp nod that seemed to serve to reassure herself more than acknowledge him, she turned to leave.

A sudden sharp pain flared just between his eyes, spreading deep into the rest of his brain and he couldn’t help but hiss in surprise.

“Doctor?”

“I’m fine,” He waved her off, rubbing at his head even though he knew a simple massage would do nothing, “Just make sure you get Jim to open those torpedoes before he gets to Q’onoS and talks to Kh- Harrison.”

Those eyes were once again boring into his own, trying to find something he isn’t sure he might have. Perhaps she was searching for answers, not all of which he can give. Not if he wants to see this through.

“What am I going to find in those torpedoes, doctor? Do you know?”

“No, I don’t.”

He answered too quickly; stumbled over his words. It made him look suspicious, he knew that. But he felt that she would’ve narrowed her eyes at him regardless of how or when he said it. There was something about her where she always knew when there was something more.

Maybe he had always been obvious, or maybe even a terrible liar. But he could never keep a secret from her. Not for long, at least.

“You know something. You know a lot of things, I think, and you’re not exactly being forthcoming.”

A deeper, nastier part of him wanted to bark out a ‘you think?’, but he bit his tongue, choosing instead to keep silent. Which Carol didn’t like as she curled her lip in irritation.

“I’ll find out. When this is all over.

“When this is all over,” He agreed.

That was the least he could do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my best chapter, but things will be picking up in next week’s update!


	5. You’re Not Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leonard discovers he can’t do this alone, and he’s glad to have people who’ll have his back.

Sickbay was a mess, just as he remembered it being. Carol had left about half an hour ago, and he’d stepped out of his office into a room full of bustling nurses and their patients. He hadn’t gotten the call to open one of those torpedoes, and he could only hope he’d get it soon.

Lieutenant Asan let out a curse from somewhere to his left, who had a broken leg and arm after one of the undercover Section 31 agents carrying in a torpedo bumped his ladder down in engineering, and there were a few science officers being tended for chemical burns after cleaning up a forgotten experiment in the labs. 

He was able to time the exact moment Christine bumped into him, nearly falling flat on her face when she tripped over his crouched body trying to grab a few fallen scanners under an empty biobed. He barely managed an apology when, as he expected, Nurse Esero actually tripped over him. The subsequent shatter of hypospray pods made him cringe, but not as much as Christine’s signature scolding that followed. It was half-hearted, as she was already walking away, but that didn’t stop the high flush of shame that dusted Esero’s freckled cheeks.

“Don’t mind her, Hiset,” Thankfully, the broom and sharps container were both within reach. No use cutting their hands over this, “You know she means well.”

“Yes, of course, doctor.”

Hiset’s warm hand had brushed his wrist, like before. But, unlike the first time he’d lived through this moment, there was suddenly a vice-like grip on his arm. He dropped the small broom in surprise.

“Nurse?”

Hiset “Set” Esero had been assigned to the ship about six months prior to  Khan’s attack, although he wasn’t exactly a new face to most of them. During the Academy, Leonard had TA’d for a medical ethics course in order to boost his GPA and Set had been in that particular class. Even if he was only a few years younger than himself, Set was a smart kid with a good heart. He felt a little more strongly than most of his peers due to his half-Betazoid status, but a lot of it still had to do with his personality: passionate, empathetic, and extremely caring. Leonard couldn’t say much more on the subject because he never really took nor had the time to know him, even in the future.

But he did remember a particular incident early into his third year - Set’s first - that told him a lot about the kid. He was one of the first half-Betazoids to ever be born, meaning no one really knew what to expect with their health. Unfortunately for Set, his telepathic maturity reached its peak about two decades too early. 

He’d blamed him for a bit, for what the class had been put through that day. Therapy had lasted for months, and he’d been left feeling raw during the events of Nero. It had taken some personal research on Betazoid anatomy and physiology for him to truly understand that what had happened hadn’t been Set’s fault, especially when he took into consideration that he’d grown up with only a human mother who did her best but knew nothing about his other half.

Leonard would be one of the first to say Zanthi fever was a bitch. He could never forget the feeling of fear that had seemed to infect his body without his consent, nor the dark eyes that stared wildly back at him looking as terrified as he had felt. Even glassy from the fever, they had been able to see through him, as if he was an open book.

They were clear now, but those eyes were once again staring straight through and into him, wide and innocent but knowing a little too much.

Set was awfully observant. When combined with his natural abilities, it made him a good nurse.

It also made him really good at sniffing out secrets and lies.

“You… How?”

Fuck.

“Not now,” He hissed, ripping his arm out of Set’s frightful grip. The half-Betazoid only continued to stare as Leonard shot up to a stand, mouth agape in confused shock, “Later, okay? Just… not now.”

With a distracted, shaky nod, Set struggled to his feet before gently taking the sharps bin from Leonard’s hands, “Be careful, doctor.” Was all he said, before disappearing into the recesses of Sickbay. Almost like he’d never been there in the first place.

It was hard enough having Carol on his back.

“Doctor McCoy!”

Speak of the devil.

Carol’s hair was once again in disarray, and much like he’d done to her before she grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into his office. Which was just as well. The lights of Sickbay were beginning to irritate his rapidly forming migraine and it was nice and dark in this room.

She let go of him as soon as the door hissed shut, turning away from him in favour of pacing a hole in his floor. He only watched as she tried to gather her wits about her, growling under her breath much like he was wont to do. The angry mutters under her breath were too low for him to understand, but he got the gist well enough.

“Jim didn’t listen to you, did he?”

“No!” She shrieked. Nurse Anderson, who was passing by the narrow window of his office, halted abruptly to peer inside at Carol’s shout, “He didn’t! I could barely get more than three words out the entire time. I don’t even think he was listening to me!”

Even though his expectations for Jim’s critical thinking abilities weren’t particularly high at the moment, he was still disappointed in him. He remembered Jim being hard-headed during this time but this was not what he had anticipated.

With a defeated sigh, Leonard walked over to the window to hide the both of them from Anderson’s prying eyes. She was a major gossip, and he didn’t need this word of any secret meetings getting out.

Once again, he didn’t have a plan. And Jim not being too much of a dumbass was what he’d been relying on.

“God, he’s so  _ insufferable _ how do you do it?”

“Believe me, I wish I knew,” Was the automatic response. He was distantly aware of her snorting at his off-handed comment before continuing onto here rant, but his mind was on other matters.

If Jim wasn’t going to cooperate, then who would? He’d reveal his little secret if it came down to it, and it was starting to seem like it was the only option available to him. Carol probably wouldn’t take it well. Jim certainly wouldn’t. Set? Maybe.

And Spock…

“And your commander couldn’t keep his nose out of my business so now I have  _ two _ people on this ship aware of my true identity-.”

Wait.

Last time, Spock hadn’t figured out her status this early on.

The beginnings of another plan started to form, faster than he could barely comprehend.

Yes, he could use this to his advantage.

As Carol continued to rave about their current situation, Leonard strode over to his desk’s intercom, eyes glued to the holopic of Joanna beaming up at him. A reminder of one of the people he was doing this for.

“McCoy to Bridge.”

“Uhura speaking. Hello, Leonard.”

The greeting was heartfelt, and he couldn’t help his smile despite the tension thrumming in his body. Despite the urgency that made his blood rush in his ears.

“Hello, Nyota. Hope it ain’t as crazy up there as it is down here.”

“Take a wild guess,” Came her dry reply, “Now, I know you didn’t call just to chat. What do you need?” He could hear Jim speaking somewhere in the background, perhaps ranting about something but he couldn’t make out the words.

“How close are we to Klingon Space?”

Uhura made an inquisitive sound, but didn’t press. Leonard could only imagine what was going through her head: why would the  _ Enterprise _ ’s CMO need to know their ETA?

“About an hour.”

“Tell Spock I need his ass down here, right now.”

Silence. He couldn’t see her face, but he felt her disapproval through the speaker. It was easy to forget your manners when you felt there was not a moment to lose. His earlier encounter with Christine proved that much.

“Please?”

“Leonard… what’s going on? You sound… panicked.”

“It’s hard not to be.”

“Alright, keep your secrets,” She obviously saw through his bluff. Nyota knew better than to pry, because with her exquisite skills in languages came exquisite skills with social cues. He was not going to talk if she asked any further.

Her voice was muffled as she undoubtedly covered her mouthpiece, but he could hear her questioning words as she hopefully asked if Spock could make it down to Sickbay. It sounded like there was some back and forth, which reminded him that they weren’t on the best of terms right now.

Fuck, he’d forgotten about that.

Carol was now watching him intently, much calmer and a question on her lips. But he made a gesture for her to be quiet, straining to hear the changes in tone because this could go either way.

Spock could ignore him in favour of keeping an eye on Jim. In the heat of the moment, he could ignore Leonard’s request because he didn’t think it important enough. Or he could ignore him because his message was being delivered through Nyota and they were currently in their ‘it’s complicated’ phase.

“Leonard? He’s making his way down to you.”

Or he could be sensible and listen to him, for once.

“Nyota, have I ever told you you’re a damn godsend?”

A short laugh, “No, but I expect to hear it once a day from now on.”

He could certainly do that, “Will do, ma’am. And… be careful, you hear?”

“Always am, Leonard. Stay safe.”

Carol, who had waited until they could hear the tell-tale click of the line being closed, went ignored as she started questioning him, on his heels as he poked his head out of his office. She’d get her answers soon.

“Nurse Esero!” He tried to shout over the dull roar of a busy, panicked Sickbay. A few curious heads turned, but not the one he wanted to. Leonard could spy Set’s shock of red hair a couple of metres away, the white fabric of his nurse uniform stretched over his broad back as he carried out whatever duties he’d been assigned.

The pain in his head, which had started to wane, was starting to build again and he wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.

“Esero!” The man finally heard him, swinging around to find the source, “My office, now!”

“What are you doing?” Carol hissed at him when she pulled him back inside, hand fisted into the back of his uniform like he was a naughty child who had been caught doing something he’d been told not to do several times already. He was sure she probably would’ve shaken him a bit if Spock hadn’t picked that moment to walk in, Hiset only a few steps behind him.

It was his turn to pace now.

Set’s dark, knowing eyes tracked him back and forth, back and forth.

“Doctor, I do not have time for this,” Spock’s stern voice finally broke the tense silence, “Why are Dr. Mar-,” An uneasy glance to Set, “Dr. Wallace and one of your nurses here?”

Leonard finally allowed himself a moment to stop and breathe, because what was about to follow wasn’t going to be easy.

“Both you and Dr.  _ Marcus _ are here because I need your help. Nurse Esero is here to keep the two of you from throwin’ me in the brig if you think I’m off my rocker after I tell you what I know and why I know it,” Carol made a face at him, and he momentarily felt guilty for putting her off not so long ago. 

But damn it all, he was flying by the seat of his pants here. He didn’t really have the luxury of making plans beforehand and sticking to the ones he pulled out of thin air when they no longer worked out.

Ideally, he wouldn’t be telling anyone the circumstances of his knowledge. Ideally, he’d be pulling off a one-man mission and no one would be the wiser.

That’d only work in a perfect world, or on a ship with a crew that would’ve been naive at best and grossly incompetent at worst. But the  _ Enterprise  _ crew was the best of the best, and he wouldn’t have been able to stay silent for long.

He had an hour, and he needed to make it count.

“Y’all are goin’ to want to sit down for this.”

Spock’s face was a wall, as usual, but Carol’s face went through a myriad of emotions as he tried to explain his behaviour, and why it was important to get one of those torpedoes open. How the future he was from had temporal agents and more time anomalies than they could keep track of.

He kept some things to himself, like Admiral Marcus’ involvement in Section 31and Jim’s death, no matter how temporary it was. Revealing the former wouldn’t be wise, given that he didn’t know how he could explain it to Carol with their limited time. And revealing the latter would defeat the purpose of all this, considering he didn’t want anyone knowing the potential of an augment’s blood if he could help it.

Set was a surprisingly steady presence at his side, a hand squeezing his shoulder in encouragement when things were starting to get difficult for him. When he started stumbling over his words and misremembering the order of the events as they had happened.

Trying to remember what would’ve already come to pass was like trying to grab water, the recollections merely slipping through his fingers like fine grains of sand. Some of it he was still able to hold in the cup of his palms, the important details lodging themselves in the creases of his hand. But most of it - whatever it was because how can you remember what it is you forgot? - escaped his grasp.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

“I can’t believe this,” She finally said, once Leonard finished his tale, “I mean… time travel? You do understand how difficult this is to believe, I hope.”

“I know,” He sighed, “But Hiset knows I’m tellin’ the truth.”

“Do you, Nurse?” Spock spoke for the first time since Leonard had started. It made him nervous to see the Vulcan so stoic, even if that was how Spock normally was.

The bomb he’d just dropped wasn’t something to take lightly.

Set used that moment to step forward, something like determination in his posture. For the briefest of moments, Leonard was envious. Envious of his obvious confidence; his self-assurance. He never took the time to consider if Set was a natural leader, not before and not in the future.

But now, it was clear he was.

“Doctor McCoy is speaking the truth. My abilities allow me to sense his… ‘otherness’, for lack of a better term. The body is of this time, but his mind and soul aren’t. I think we should listen to him,” He sent a reassuring glance his way, “If he says open a torpedo, then we open a torpedo. Hell, from what he says, we should just kill this ‘Khan’ and be done with it.”

“Nurse Esero,” Spock’s voice took on a scolding tone, more in reprimand than in actual disapproval. Which made sense, given how Spock had acted after Jim had died in Leonard’s time. He’d always believed that the urge to murder Khan was in Spock before that had happened. Leonard was sympathetic to that, of course, “We are not in the habit of being judge, jury, and executioner.”

He wondered how many times he’s had that conversation with Jim.

Set made a sound of discontent, but didn’t push.

“Alright, Doctor,” Spock pushed himself to a stand, folding his hands behind his back and taking up the pose Leonard was so familiar with, “We can figure out the details of your presence here at a later date. What do you suggest we do about the torpedoes, given that the captain has denied Dr. Marcus’ request to open them?”

Leonard released a breath he didn’t realise he was holding, glad that one of his plans was finally working out.

“We open one anyway. By the time the  _ Enterprise _ reaches the edge of Klingon space, there’ll be a lifeless planetoid nearby. If things happen like they did in my future, Jim and the others will be on Q’onoS for a while, which would give Carol and I enough time to get there, open one up, and get back.”

“But why are we opening a torpedo in the first place?” Carol questioned, crossing her arms in barely concealed uncertainty, “If Captain Kirk listens to Khan and has us open one anyway, what’s the point?”

Maybe leaving her father’s name out of all this wasn’t such a great idea.

“The more time we waste here, the worse it’s gonna get. I think if we speed things along we’ll be better for it.”

“So, we’re still keeping secrets?” She grumbled, aggression bleeding into her stance. Leonard half-expected her to start a fight with him, watching her warily for a few tense seconds before she deflated, “I guess you have your reasons. And I’ll just have to trust that you know what you’re doing.”

The brief anxiety over having that much responsibility was easily overshadowed by his relief.

While it introduced variables he had no control over, perhaps things would be easier now that he didn’t carry this burden alone.

“The doctor and I may argue about many things, Dr. Marcus,” Spock said, surprisingly soft, “But his judgement is one that I would trust.”

Leonard almost felt touched.

“When he is not prone to his emotional bouts of human sentiment, of course.”

Almost.

“Careful, Spock. One might think you actually like me,” He said, wryly. Both Set and Carol snorted at that, the latter hiding her humour by hiding her face behind a curtain of blonde hair. Spock continued on as if he hadn’t heard him.

“I will authorise your mission to the planetoid, so that no one will question your absence while I am on Q’onoS. That will allow you approximately twenty-seven-point-three-two minutes to prepare. Perhaps, Dr. Marcus can outfit the shuttle you both will take in the meantime, as she no doubt will know what she needs to open one of the torpedoes.”

“Yes, that sounds like a good idea,” Was all she said before she was bounding out of the room, eager now that she had a specific purpose on this ship.

“Doctor, I do hope your plan works.”

“So do I, Spock,” Leonard said, even when Spock turned to leave, “So do I.”

The door had just hissed behind Spock’s retreating back when what felt like a white hot pick was being nailed into his brain. He could only groan in pain, stumbling over to the closest chair with a hand to his head. 

Leonard had been brushing these pains off as simple headaches, but now he could no longer ignore them.

“How long have you been getting these headaches, Doctor?” Set’s voice was a balm to his mind, although he couldn’t give much thought on whether that was an intentional effect or not, “Since your arrival to this time?”

“Call me Leonard, Hiset,” He forced out through gritted teeth, breathing through the pain as best as he could. It was easier to do when large, warm hands cradled each side of his face like a support, “And basically since I got here. But they’ve only gotten bad over the last several hours.”

“Call me Set, then,” His mood darkened when he pulled away with a grim set to his shoulders, “I can’t say for certain what’s causing these headaches, but I have a theory. It’s getting harder to recall the future you know, right?”

The pain had lessened to a dull ache now, and Leonard warily nodded.

“It’s like I said earlier, about me sensing your otherness. Your body is of this time, and thinks it’s part of this time. But your mind and soul? Your consciousness? That’s not, and your body is having trouble consolidating the conflicting experiences. The human mind can only handle so much, after all,” Set pursed his lips, “I guess the best way to compare it is to say it’s like your data is being overwritten.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but that doesn’t sound good.”

“It probably isn’t,” He shrugged, “If what I’m saying is right, then you’re going to keep experiencing these pains as things change; as you try to recall what hasn’t happened but has already passed. The unimportant details will probably slip through the cracks, and logically, any possible future events that you may remember may disappear from your mind entirely if it becomes impossible for them to happen.”

Leonard had to stamp down on the panic that flooded him at the mention. Because, yes, some things were starting to get fuzzy and this was a good indication he was on the right track. But there were a couple of things that remained clear and painless when he recalled them: the warp core and Jim’s death.

That could only mean they were going to happen unless he did something to change that.

But what?

This would’ve been a lot easier if he’d been transported to the past before Khan’s attack on Starfleet HQ. Preventing Pike’s death would’ve undoubtedly changed everything.

“Right now,” Set’s voice drew him back to the present moment. No use lingering on the what-ifs of the past, since it wasn’t likely he'd get another chance like this, “We need to focus on the idea that it will get worse the more you change.”

“You can’t expect me to stop tryin’ to change the outcome of this, Set-.”

“No, I don’t. You’re stubborn, everyone knows that. But I’m concerned this could turn out to be chronic. Time travel doesn’t come without cost.”

“The hell do you mean by that?”

Set levelled him with an unimpressed look, “You’re a smart man, Leonard. Did you really think that the pains would stop after all this nonsense? From what you told us, everything that happens now still affects everyone years later. You change that? You change everything and create new events that conflict with the ones you know. It’ll only stop when you reach the point in time you were displaced from, but since the pain is getting worse, and so quickly…”

He trailed off, and Leonard didn’t need him to finish his thought.

Since the pain was getting worse at such a rapid rate, there were two possible outcomes that immediately came to mind. He could be bedridden for years, suffering from osteoporosis and severe muscular atrophy, amongst other things that came with being immobile for so long.

Or the pain could get so bad he’d suffer from a stroke or a heart attack, and quite possibly die as a result.

Neither idea sounded so attractive, but even that seemed like a small price to pay in the grand scheme of things. And surely they could figure something out, when this was over.

“Look, Set, I have ten minutes to get down to the shuttle bay. I can’t talk about this right now.”

He wasn’t deflecting. Absolutely not.

Set clearly saw right through it, lips pursed in barely repressed annoyance but he didn’t push. Instead, he shot up to a stand and started rummaging around in one of the office’s cabinets, determination glinting in his eyes.

“What’re you doin’?” Set didn’t acknowledge him, rifling through his possessions before producing both a first-aid kit and Leonard’s trusty pack that he always brought on away missions, “Do I want to know how you knew that was there?”

“Who do you think keeps stock of Sickbay? I know where everything is. I even know about your secret stash of bourbon,” Leonard watched as Set emptied the pack of nearly everything besides pain hypos, and then filled the empty pockets with more of them from the first-aid kit. The black pleather bag was shoved into his hands, “There. For the headaches. I don’t know if they’ll be effective for long, but they should do for now.”

Leonard finally stood, bracing himself for what uncertainties may lie ahead.

“You know, to be fair to myself, it ain’t really a secret stash if I keep it in my desk. It ain’t really hidden,” Set scoffed, “And Set?”

He stopped just by the threshold, nervously fiddling with the pack’s strap across his chest. He was only delaying the inevitable, but this felt necessary.

“Yeah?”

Dark eyes, quite possibly black but Leonard couldn’t tell in the dim office lights, were staring into and through him once again. For a brief second, he wondered if it was because his irises were so large, or if it was a side effect of his abilities.

“Thank you.”

A smile that seemed almost sad.

“Thank me by staying safe.”

“I’ll try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I know I said that things would pick up this chapter, but I find myself having to push things over into the next chapter since these chapters are ending up longer than what I usually write.
> 
> But I PROMISE things will pick up next chapter!
> 
> Also, say hello to my fave ST OC! He’s precious and I love him.


	6. More Dangerous Than An Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A spy outs themselves.

_ The torpedo will not explode. _

_ The torpedo will not explode. _

_ The torpedo will not explode. _

His hands gripped the arm rests with frightening ferocity, the fake leather creaking in protest of its treatment. The torpedo sat innocently - or perhaps, not-so-innocently, depending on how you looked at it - just in front of him, strapped down so it wouldn’t roll around in the shuttle. The panel he’d ‘previously’ gotten his arm trapped in when the torpedo had activated was conveniently placed in front of him, taunting him with the possibilities of what could happen now that things were changing.

Leonard took comfort in the fact that he still remembered this particular memory clearly.

But he still couldn’t keep his eyes off of it.

“Doctor?” Carol’s voice broke him out of his funk. She was watching him warily.

Since the moment they’d boarded, she’d been mostly quiet. While it was clear she’d accepted the fact he was from a future that hopefully didn’t exist anymore, it was also clear that she didn’t like it.

“‘M fine,” He ground out through gritted teeth. Their pilot, Lieutenant Moore, an intimidating Andorian-Human woman with arms that could probably pop a human’s head with only a flex, glanced at them in the wide interior mirror. Their eyes met for a brief second, and she looked away, “I don’t like flyin’.”

That wasn’t a complete lie.

She pursed her lips in disbelief.

“A Starfleet officer who doesn’t like flying, and you’re on the  _ Enterprise _ ? Why not take a ground position?”

His hands flew up to the straps across his chest when their transport shuddered, as if he could protect himself from being torn from the shuttle should they crash. He was sure they wouldn’t, but his hammering heart didn’t know that now did it?

Breathe in. 

Hold. 

Breathe out.

Deep and slow.

“Someone’s gotta keep an eye on the kid.”

“A child and his keeper?”

He chuckled, with only a touch of humour, “Yeah, somethin’ like that,” Salt bloomed on his tongue when he licked his lips nervously, “You tryin’ to get me to calm down?”

A lopsided grin. The kind he was intimately familiar with.

It was Jim’s grin when he’d been caught doing something Leonard disapproved of, or when he was being a pain in the ass on purpose.

It was Joanna’s when she finally stumped Spock with a question he couldn’t answer, yet again fulfilling her goal to find all the things the Vulcan didn’t know.

And it was Carol’s when she felt like blessing him with the knowledge that she thought he was ‘alright’. A glowing commendation, if there ever was one.

“Is it working, Doctor?”

Unsurprisingly, it had. Sure, there was still an underlying current of panic humming just under his skin, but the walls didn’t feel like they were closing in anymore.

She always had a way of knowing just the right things to say or do in order to distract him from whatever was plaguing him at the moment.

“Pardon?”

He’d said that out loud, hadn’t he?

Leonard winced.

“Are you saying…?” He peaked a glance at her. Carol’s eyes were fixated on something just over his shoulder, hesitation and confusion written clearly in her features. Aware of the potentially eavesdropping pilot, she lowered her voice, “Did we know each other, in your future?”

The seat supporting his body was soft as he attempted to disappear into the cushions, embarrassed and  _ not at all prepared _ for this conversation right now. If ever.

How could he describe the weird and awkward relationship he might still have with her? How could he tell the woman who viewed him like a stranger that they’d had sex? Multiple times?

God, would she even believe him if he told her?

“Not sure I should be answerin’ that.” He opted for instead. Perhaps he was a glutton for punishment, because there was no other outcome he could’ve expected from his response besides anger or stubbornness. Carol was smart enough not to make an audible fuss about it, but she was also smart enough to settle for a piercing stare instead. One that weaseled and crawled its way under his skin until he couldn’t do anything but cave, “Fine. We did know each other.”

“Honest?”

“Now why the  _ hell _ would I lie ‘bout somethin’ like that? If you can believe I’m from the future then-.”

“Okay, okay!” She hissed, “Fair point. It’s just… you had that nurse to back that claim. But I don’t think even  _ he _ knows just what you know- Wait, wait, wait! Tell me something that no one else could possibly know about me. Then I’ll believe you.”

Inch by inch she leaned in, nose so close to brushing his own he went cross-eyed to hold her gaze. She couldn’t be serious!

“Come on-.”

“Tell me.”

“Carol, please-.”

“Doctor.”

“Can’t you just-.”

“ _ Leonard _ .”

Brain-mouth filter? Not working.

“You have a heart-shaped mole on your-.”

_ Fuck _ .

Carol made a soft noise of surprise, shocked into falling back against her seat. Numbly, she asked, “You didn’t find that out from a med exam, did you?”

His silence was all the answer she needed. He really could’ve picked anything else, like something from the childhood she kept close to her chest. Or a passage from her favourite book that he’d memorised in an attempt to woo her.

But no, he had to let it slip that he was very much aware of what her intimate areas looked like. Many apologies were in order and he certainly needed to beg for her forgiveness because he could only imagine what it felt like to have  _ that _ bomb dropped so suddenly.

Leonard didn’t get the chance to as Lieutenant Moore announced their arrival and prepped the shuttle for landing. 

There’d be plenty of time to apologise later.

Now, it was time to uncover the truth.

Thankfully, the landing was smooth, and Moore helped them drag the torpedo out onto the gravelly earth of this deserted planetoid. Both he and Carol were a sweaty mess when they got it to a suitable spot, but the lieutenant looked mostly unaffected. 

Yes, Leonard was a little jealous.

_ Focus! _

“If you two don’t mind,” Moore fixed the hem of her uniform shirt with a sharp tug before eagerly backing away, “I’ll be on the  _ Galileo _ . Don’t fancy being privy to… whatever this is. Have fun.”

“Thanks for help with the heavy liftin’, Lieutenant,” Leonard absently waved her off, trying to muster up the courage he’d need for what was to come. Carol echoed his gratitude as her delicate fingers traced the barely-there seams of the torpedo, searching for the panel that will allow her to override the system, “Set, can you hear us?”

“ _ Loud and clear, Leonard _ ,” Set’s accented voice crackled over the comm unit pinned to his shoulder, “ _ Connection’s rough but it’s manageable. I’d try and fix it, but this is my first time working with these systems. I’m only a nurse, after all. _ ”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re hilarious,” A chuckle sounded over the line, “Alright, Carol. I may have done this before but it don’t mean I remember it very well, so tell me what to do.”

Carol pried open the access panel to the fuel compartment with a grunt before connecting her PADD to the adjacent interface with a thick cord. So far, so good, “This is going to go well, right? Be honest.”

“I sure hope so,” With more hesitation than he was willing to admit, Leonard slipped a hand inside at her guidance after taking the small wire cutters from her, “Can’t exactly say for sure, given what we’ve changed so far.”

“Well, that’s just great,” She muttered dryly, “The fibre optic cables should be slightly to your right. You’ll need to cut the twenty-third wire down while I reroute the detonation processor, but be careful not to touch anything with the cutters. Your hands are fine, though.”

“Terrific,” With an extended pinky, he counted softly under his breath, “One, two, three, four…”

The anxiety was back. Leonard would’ve liked to know what originally caused the detonation before so that he knew what to avoid. But the truth was that he didn’t. Carol hadn’t made him privy to that information originally and he refused to read the full report after it was completed. He didn’t need a reminder.

“...fifteen, sixteen, seventeen…”

“ _ How’s that rerouting going? _ ”

“Almost there.”

“...twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two… Okay, Carol, I’ve got the twenty-third wire between my fingers. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll cut it. Just say the word.”

“Give me one second,” Fingers furiously tapped away at the PADD screen, “Alright, on my count.

“One…”

_ Don’t explode. _

“...two…”

_ Please, don’t explode. _

“...three!”

The scream that was ripped from his lips tore at his throat as the panel shut on his arm, the telltale crack of bone breaking echoing in the still air.

“Shit!” Carol’s fingers flew over her PADD, “There was a hidden alert in the system. Shit, shit,  _ shit _ !”

“ _ Can you disarm it? Leonard, are you okay?!” _

“I’m trying, I’m trying!” The timer was blurry through the tears and pain, and he barely registered when Lieutenant Moore rushed from the shuttle and caught him before he could completely collapse to his knees.

“Rip out the mechanism!” He screeched, trying to ride out the pain because  _ what the fuck _ his arm didn’t break last time! “Dammit, Carol! Just rip it out!”

“You’ve got five seconds left, Doctor Marcus!” Moore tried to force the panel away from his arm and it groaned in protest, “Hurry!”

“Here goes nothing!”

Both Leonard and Moore gracelessly fell to the ground when the panel finally released him, the former with a cry of pain when it jarred his now bleeding arm.

“ _ Doctor Marcus? Leonard? What happened?” _

“We’re okay, Set,” He barely managed to bite out, letting Moore guide him up to a stand, “Goin’ to need some medical attention when we get back on the ship. Pretty sure I broke my arm.”

“ _ Broke your  _ what _?! _ ”

“Oh my god…” Carol’s whisper, almost inaudible with how faint it was, cut off the beginning of Set’s tirade, “Leonard was right. You were  _ right _ .”

Moore cursed under her breath when she saw the torpedo’s contents, “I knew there was something up with those. I just knew it.”

And just like before, asleep and completely unaware of the world around them, was an augment in a cryotube.  


* * *

“Easy does it,” Christine gently pushed him back onto the biobed, “Get up and I’ll hypo you into oblivion. You can be just as bad as the captain, you know.”

“Am not,” Leonard half-heartedly protested, draping an arm over his face to block out the bright lights. His head was beginning to throb again. On the other side of the curtain, he could hear both technicians and nurses alike bustling about, gingerly removing each cryotube from the torpedoes that had been hauled up to sickbay. Jim and the others hadn't come back with Khan yet, “Anyone ever tell you that your bedside manner needs work?”

“That’s rich coming from you,” She chided, settling the straps over his chest so that he’d be immobile for the osteo-regenerator. A low groan escaped him when she propped his injured arm up on a support, “Carol did a wonderful job with this splint. Too bad she isn’t a nurse. I did try to convince her while we were in school but she always did find weapons more interesting.”

“While that’s interestin' and all,” It really wasn’t. It would’ve been if this was new information to him, but he’d heard all of this from Carol, “What’s the damage?”

“Well,” She drew out the vowel, tugging the scanner from the wall. The articulated arm it was connected to squeaked, and Leonard would need to remind himself later that it had to get fixed, “According to the scanner, it looks like you managed to break both your radius and ulna. One of them is an oblique displacement, however. It’s going to take maybe fifteen minutes to heal your cut, and at least two hours for both of the bones.”

“You think we can just get the dermal regen unit and put my arm in a cast? I don’t really have that kind of time.”

A deep scowl, which he had certainly expected.

“And  _ I  _ don’t really have time for  _ this _ , Leo. M’Benga wants me to help with those tubes and you know how difficult the healing process can be if we wait-.”

“Excuse me.”

Leonard didn’t need to open his eyes to know Anderson had poked her head through the curtains, cutting off Christine’s tirade before it could really gain any sort of traction. Honestly, who knew how long she was standing there - listening in - before intervening.

“Doctor M’Benga’s asking for you, Nurse. I can take over from here,” Christine must’ve given her a look, as Anderson quickly cut in, “Don’t worry, I can handle him.”

There was a beat of silence as Christine considered, if the sound of her fingers tapping against the PADD in her hands was any indication.

“Okay, fine,” Exasperation coloured her voice but Leonard didn’t allow himself to feel too guilty. There was very little he wouldn’t do to see this through, and if it caused Christine a little bit of frustration, he could live with that, “But don’t come crying to me when he gives you trouble.”

“Wouldn’t dare!” Anderson cheerfully called after when she left, the metal rings of the privacy curtain screaming when it was parted and then shut again, “Now, Doctor...”

Leonard peaked at her from under his arm as she turned to face him, leaning over his body to reach for the biobed’s controls.

“What are you-?” A deceptively strong hand clamped over his mouth as she shut off the biobed, muffling the yells that wouldn’t be heard over the chaos of Sickbay. He tried to push her away with his only free hand; to gouge her skin through her uniform but he was struggling against the straps keeping his shoulders level and immobile.

“Jesus christ, shut up!” She hissed, bringing a fist down hard on his broken arm.

The pain was enough for a tortured scream to rip past his lips, unable to do anything else other than grab onto her to ground himself through the agony radiating from his bones.

By the time it faded to a throbbing pain, he was a sweaty, trembling mess. Tears tracked down his face unbidden as Anderson leaned into his space, normally warm mischievous eyes now hard and cold.

No.

_ No. _

She finally released his arm to grab the scalpel she’d hidden in her pocket, the sharp metal biting into the vulnerable flesh of his neck.

It couldn’t be.

“Don’t even think about calling for help, or I’ll cut your throat. You’re the Great Doctor McCoy. I shouldn’t have to tell you how long it takes to choke on your own blood.”

The second her sweaty palm left his lips, his quivering lips whispered, “ _ You _ .”

It was Anderson all along. All this time, back in his future... The paranoia that his PADD or office had been bugged; that it had been one of the newer nurses that had transferred to his Sickbay. 

He’d never thought it’d be her.

But it made complete sense. She was the gossip, after all. You could always depend on her to know the latest news; to know anything about anyone. He’d just chalked it up to her being nosy, but now he knew it was more than that.

“How did you know about the torpedoes?” Her warm breath wafted over his face, sweet with cherry lip gloss. Like the kind Joanna wore, gentle and refreshing. But now it crawled up his nose and settled in his sinuses, like a worm. Fat and wriggling and it  _ hurt _ , “Only select Section 31 agents were allowed to know, so how did you?”

“Why should I tell you?” His voice shook, betraying just how terrified he felt. With more effort than he felt he had, he curled his lip and sneered, “Traitor.”

Fingers painfully grabbed his face, his one abnormally sharp molar cutting into the flesh of his cheek, “You’re lucky we’re surrounded by so many ears. I’d be doing so much worse to you right now if that weren’t the case.”

She pressed the scalpel harder to his throat, and a bead of blood tickled its way down from the wound. He swallowed.

“Tell me, is there a mole in Section 31?” Dark eyes narrowed and he felt trapped. Between her body and the biobed, under the straps keeping him still and behind the curtain that hidden away from prying eyes, “Did you hack our systems? Or did someone else? Who’s your contact?”

“I don’t know,” And he didn’t know. It wasn’t a complete lie, because he couldn’t explain how he got here or why it was him of all people. But if Section 31 found out, what would they do to him after this was said and done? Hell, if he was the monstrous head of Section 31, he certainly wouldn’t leave someone like himself alive or allowed to roam free, “I swear, I don’t know.”

“Liar,” Spit splattered against his cheek and he flinched, “What’re you holding back for? What do you have to lose? Whether you divulge your secret or not won’t change the fact that our little conversation ends with you dead.”

“And how d’you plan to do that?” Sweat gathered along his lip, and it felt like the false bravado he put up was ready to crumble before it even formed, “It’s just a broken arm.”

“It’s easy to fake a report, Doctor. There are so many nerves and vessels in that precious little arm of yours. The bones shift just so and you can bleed out,” As if to prove her point, she took his arm and squeezed. Hard.

Leonard wasn’t sure if he’d cried out. If he’d groaned, screamed, or tried to buck her off with his hips. The moment the muscles in her hand flexed was the moment a curtain of static shut on his brain, emptying his mind of all coherent thought. All he could feel was the white-hot agony that coursed through his veins; the grinding of bone and muscle underneath his skin like they weren’t  _ his _ , but like a parasite - a foreign body - that had settled itself there.

He couldn’t breathe and there was a pressure on his chest; on his neck. The curtain of white became one of black as his lungs strained to bring in air, the muscles between his ribs seizing with the effort.

_ Breathe, Leonard. _

Something warm and gentle on his face, and there was a smooth voice on the edge of his hearing. The pressure was gone, but he still couldn’t breathe!

_ Listen to my voice. Breathe… _

Sweet, sweet oxygen burned his throat when his body finally complied with the voice's commands, and light was finally returning to his vision. A shock of deep red and blue filled his vision until the one grounding him came into focus.

It was Set.

He smiled at him, brightly awkward, "There you go. You with me, Leonard?"

"Hurts," He sounded pathetic with his voice pitched high with the pain in both his arm and head. The scratchiness of his throat was negligible in comparison as tears gathered in his lashes unbidden. It was hard to think straight and he  _ hated  _ how vulnerable and helpless he felt, "My head…"

Set's dark eyes seemed to look sad for a second, but maybe that was the pain-induced delirium, "Here. This should help," Seemingly from thin air, though Leonard knew better, Set conjured a hypospray loaded with pain medication and pressed it against the artery in his neck. The effect was almost immediate and he sighed in relief, even if the pain in his head faded to only a full throb, "Better?"

"Significantly," He nervously huffed before trying to lift his head off the bed, much to Set's chagrin, who pushed him back down, "Anderson?"

His face darkened before he glanced to the floor somewhere out of Leonard's field of vision, "Out cold. I gave her a good knock over the head and security's on their way to escort her to the brig-."

"Leo!" Christine nearly ripped the curtain from its rings with the ferocity of which she appeared, red in the face and looking like she was ready to kill someone. She quickly lost her steam when she saw Anderson's prone body on the floor, "Are you okay?"

No. He wasn’t okay. He was tired and wary, his head ached, he was scared about what might happen next; he didn’t want to do this anymore.   


Nothing was okay.

But all he managed to say was...

"Can I get that cast now?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a tough one, not gonna lie. Hope you guys like it!
> 
> Next chapter: Khan makes an appearance and shit really hits the fan.

**Author's Note:**

> I shared this idea on Tumblr a few years ago and I FINALLY started writing it!


End file.
